The Comments Section

For three years of my life I kept myself hidden

Hidden from the world,

From my friends,

From the peopel I knew all so well

Because I was scared

Scared of somebody hurting me

Scared of being in the wrong place

Scared of walking down the wrong street

Scared of walking down that street

That street. 

Where my life changed

The street that determined my mental health for years to come

The street that took my purity,

My innocence,

My virginity.

But I soon came to realize,

The street didn't take that.

It was him.

Him, the man who I didn't even know had a name for three years

The man who didn't care if he hurt me

The man who didn't care if he hurt anybody.

The man who WANTED to hurt somebody.

And I was his somebody.

And I was his nobody.

I wasn't anybody to him

I was bait

I was dinner

I was a boy.

I remember every detail about that day.

As hard as I try to forget, the memories stay

Every time I close my eyes a movie plays in my mind.

A movie that I always know the ending to, but I can't change it as hard as I try.

A movie where I'm the main character.

Where I can see myself under his body.

Feel his breath on my neck.

The sweat dripping off him onto my back

And as the movie ends I hear the car door slam

And I'm back on the same street it all started.

And I see that damn truck drive away

And the strange thing is,

After what he had done,

I notice the license plate.

And I'll never forget that Delaware plate on the white pickup.

The next three years I lived outside my own body.

For three years I hid myself

In fake smiles and pointless laughter

For three years I went to school

Came home

Did my homework

Over and over again, until that day

That day I went on my laptop to write an essay and there it was,

An article headline that read, "Delaware man arrested"

And there was his picture

That three your wound I spent so long hiding was now reopened

And it hurt just like it did three years prior

And for some unknown reason

I read the article

And then another

And another

And soon I've read every news article on this man who now had a name

Now had a family

Now wasn't just an ebodiment of evil but was now

A person

With a partner,

And friends,

And a mother.

This was the same man,

But this wasn't the same boy.

This was a different boy

Who wasn't afraid

Who told somebody

And at the end of the last article, I scroll down further

And there I see, the comments section

The people that wanted their opinion heard

The people who put me into a further depression.

"He wanted it!" 

"That kid definitely gave consent"

"Well he didn't stop him"

The list went on for pages of these complete strangers 

defending the monster I knew all to well.

Saying that this boy wanted it.

No.

He didn't.

And neither did I.

How do they know what I wanted.

I didn't want my childhood taken. 

I didn't ask for that.

But that doesn't matter.

Because I "probably wanted it"

Because I am a male I crave sex

And that invalidates my story in the eyes of society

But society can not invalidate me

Because I decide whether my story is valid or not

And that damn comments section is the reason I told this story

My story.

And my story may be years later, but now people know

People know that I said no.